The sun had barely risen when Talia found herself in the mansion's kitchen. She needed coffee. And silence. Something to calm the storm raging inside her.
But silence wasn't on the menu today.
Adrian was already there. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp - almost predatory.
"Good morning," Talia said cautiously.
"Morning," he replied, voice low. He didn't smile. His gaze flicked past her, then back, as if reading her thoughts.
"You're tense," he observed.
"I have a lot on my mind," she admitted. "Serena... the media..."
"That's her problem," he interrupted firmly. "Not yours."
She wanted to believe him. She really did. But every time she saw Serena, every message that appeared on her phone, every whisper online, it reminded her that she wasn't in a safe world - not yet.
Adrian sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee. He glanced at her, his dark eyes softening ever so slightly.
"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly.
Talia blinked. "I... I think I do."
"Think?" he repeated, his tone sharp.
"I do," she corrected quickly.
He nodded once. Then his expression hardened.
"She'll push until she finds a way to humiliate you," he said, darkly. "And I won't allow it."
Talia's chest tightened at the possessiveness in his voice. It was intoxicating. Dangerous.
Later that evening, Talia was in her room when her phone buzzed. Another message.
He still thinks about me. Don't get comfortable, little wife.
Her hands shook as she read it. Serena's threat was clear: she wouldn't stop.
Before she could react, Adrian appeared at her doorway again.
"You got another one?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
She nodded, holding out the phone.
He read it, his dark eyes narrowing. "She's playing a dangerous game," he said quietly. "And she won't stop."
Talia's heart pounded. "What will you do?"
He stepped closer, the air around him thick. "I will handle her," he said firmly. "No one - and I mean no one - threatens what's mine."
She felt the weight of his words. Not just ownership, but protection. Something she hadn't expected... or wanted to admit.
Her gaze dropped to the floor, heart racing. The line between contract and reality was disappearing faster than she could handle.
Then Adrian reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered near her cheek, sending heat coursing through her body.
"Don't forget," he murmured, almost a growl, "you're mine."
Talia's breath caught. She wanted to protest, to remind herself it was a contract.
But she couldn't. Not when the warmth of his touch still burned on her skin.
And deep down, she realized something terrifying:
She didn't want to.
